Commitment to Change
by Hermione-2113
Summary: An Abby-centric AU, set during 7.20, Fear of Commitment. (Last chapter added - what happens if you take away that one interruption? Luby.)
1. One Tiny Difference

Glancing down the dim hallway, Abby made her way to the bench where her mother sat. There was a lump at her chest, and her heart pounded; what if today marked the last bit of sanity in the cycle? If Maggie took off now...

"You lied," she managed, settling grimly beside the older woman. "You wanted to kill yourself."

Maggie flicked her a quick, nervous look. "I can't be committed."

Abby pushed down a spurt of fury. Where was it in the rules that 'Marjorie Wyczenski Can't Be Committed'? People were put on psych holds every day, and for a hell of a lot less than taking thirty-six sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. "Well, you need help, Mom," she bit off. "And I obviously don't know how to help you."

"I understand. I don't want to be a burden to you," Maggie persisted.

Then get help! Abby felt like yelling. She'd never blamed her mother for having a disease, but there was no excuse for not doing something about it - particularly during one of her 'rational' periods. Abby managed a bitter laugh.

"I swear that's the truth. But I can't be committed." Maggie shook her head firmly.

Why? What is with this sudden allergy to the psych department? Why? But Abby held the angry words back. It never helped to get into a screaming match with her mother - and she always ended up disgusted with herself for stooping to Maggie's level. "So, what, you're just going to go out and do this to yourself again?" she demanded instead. "You're just going to roll through the whole cycle?"

"No," she insisted, but Abby spoke over her protests.

"Then what? What, what are you going to do differently this time?"

"I don't know, I don't want to make...I don't want to break any more promises to you," Maggie stuttered.

Grimly, Abby chuckled. Well, that was a help. Who cared if she went off and succeeded in killing herself, as long as she hadn't promised not to do it?

"I've put you through so much already," Maggie went on, and something in Abby broke.

"If you believed that, you would seek treatment!" she snapped, louder than she'd intended.

"I will," she claimed, "I just -"

"'Can't be committed', Abby echoed shortly. "Right, well...well, just forgive me if I don't trust your judgment."

There was a long moment of silence, and Abby nearly gave up. But Maggie did speak again - softly, but loud enough. "I would have found a way to try, Abby."

She sucked in a breath as her mother continued.

"It's not your fault. Nothing I do is your fault."

"Yeah," Abby returned hoarsely, training her eyes on the last dregs of yogurt in her cup. "Okay, Maggie."

After a minute or so, she felt the bench creak as Maggie stood up, heard the faint taps on the floor as she walked away.

Abby's hand strayed once more to the lump at her chest - and fumbling slightly, she flicked the recorder off.


	2. Three Months

Abby sagged lightly against Luka, seated on the bench beside her, as Maggie's furious denials died away. She'd had the sense not to throw a screaming temper fit in front of the judge, but that hadn't stopped her from arguing her case all the way down the hall, where her transport back to County waited.  
  
Hadn't stopped her from staring at her daughter as she was escorted out, the fury in her eyes edged by hurt betrayal.  
  
"I would have found a way to try, Abby."  
  
Those nine words, reeling from the tape recorder, had finally convinced the judge where all of Abby's reasoning had failed. With a taped confession of the attempt, the ninety-day psych hold had finally been imposed.  
  
Ninety days. Three months. An unfamiliar feeling of hope rose in Abby at the thought. Three months was long enough for the cycle to begin again, if it was going to - if Maggie wasn't better by then, she'd become irrational enough for the hold to be extended. And maybe...  
  
Maybe ninety days of unceasing meds, counseling, and supervision would do what all the years of yo-yo therapy hadn't. Maybe...  
  
Abby wouldn't let herself think 'cured'. Manic depression couldn't be 'cured', not yet. But - as an oncologist would say - maybe Maggie would go into remission.  
  
The worst might still come, she knew. Her mother might behave like an angel for the next ninety days, leave the hospital, and fall right back into the cycle again. There was always that chance.  
  
But whatever might come, for three months - she was free. Free, for the first time in her life, of the constant worry that she'd lived with since childhood. For three months, she wouldn't have to ask herself, 'What will Maggie do tomorrow? Where will she show up, and what will she do? What will I have to rescue her from?' Even during the long 'absent' months in her mother's cycle, there had always been that element of uncertainty. But now...  
  
For three months at least, Maggie was safe. And Abby was free. 


	3. Uninterrupted

In an instant, Abby forgot how exhausted she was, ceased to feel the sting of the air-conditioning against her damp skin. Her eyes, which had been going hazy with sleep, snapped back into focus on the scene before her; Luka, bearing a soft towel and a shy grin, the candles he'd set out flickering over a cozily set table...

She let herself lean forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and feeling his own fall down to encircle her shoulders. She nestled into his chest, feeling the weight of his chin on her head. Standing like this, as they did now and then, she felt closer to Luka than ever - than, truly, she ever felt to anyone. She wasn't even sure that making love with him could rival the intimacy of this. Truly relaxing for the first time that day, she whispered, Thank you."

"For what?" he murmured.

"For being there," she managed as they gently swayed back and forth. "And here. Everything."

He sighed then, softly, moving his head until his lips brushed her hair. "It never troubles me to be with you, Abby. I...I care about you. Don't think you know how important you are." She could feel a tension in his arms now, but he didn't let go. His chest rose against her cheek as he drew breath, but for a moment he didn't speak. Then - "I love you."

Frozen by reflex, she jerked back the tiniest bit, but it was enough. He felt her push against his arms and dropped them to his sides, making her shudder suddenly. Cold. She'd forgotten how cold the world was when he wasn't holding her. But his words made her heart pound.

She looked up and saw pain flashing in Luka's eyes, pain and regret. As if he were speaking aloud, she could hear him cursing himself. They stood like that for a long moment.

With forced cheer in his voice, he said, "Are you all right, there? You look like a deer in the spotlights."

It worked, as he'd surely known it would, and she laughed softly. "Headlights. Deer in the headlights."

He sighed, shaking his head in mock confusion. "I still can't see that one. Why call them headlights when they're on a car?"

So he was going to let her go. He was going to make a joke and let her pull away. Abby waited to feel relief washing over her...and found emptiness instead. Some part of her rejoiced over what he'd said, rebelling against the wall of fear she clung to.

Out of caring for her, he was willing to forget what had happened - but she knew suddenly that she didn't want him to. "Luka, wait."

He broke off his tangent about headlights, and even in the half-dark room, she could see the hope playing across his face. She couldn't back down again, couldn't do that to him. Or to herself. "I don't know what to say. Or what I feel. But I do care about you, Luka. I think we have something, and I want it to work."

The emotion in her voice, hiding behind the trite words, was raw. Somehow she knew he could see through the weak front. And she caught the flash of a smile on his shadowed face before he was holding her again, closer than before if that was even possible. Could feel him smiling still through the beat of his heart in her ears.

"Me too, Abby."


End file.
